Meet the Kids

Chapter 3

A Sparring of Words

Hermione blinked.

"She's awake," she heard a female voice say in excitement. Hermione blinked again, the fuzzy shape of a girl coming into focus. More like the girl's hair, actually. It was so voluminous and very, very blonde, too shiny for her poor eyes to look at.

"Mum?"

"Miss Granger?"

"Granger!"

Hermione shot upright, the harsh voice cutting through her drowsy sense like a knife. She felt two strong hands steady her shoulders. The world spun dizzily and she heard the girl's voice again.

"Drake- I mean, Dad, don't let her fall!"

Hermione felt someone steer her back down until she was lying down, her head propped up on something. She sighed in relief as the pounding in her head began to decrease. Slowly the distorted images in front of her began to take, and as soon as she could distinguish the shapes names and identities began racing back to her.

The girl with the big blonde hair was Elizabeth, and the worried boy was Dave, her brother. The old man was Albus Dumbledore, and the person holding her was . . .

Hermione shot up again in disgust, ignoring her aching head and reeling around to face him.

"Malfoy! Let go of me!" she exclaimed, shaking off his hands and glaring at him.

His expression was just as fierce. "Forgive me for not letting you fall, Granger."

Hermione stared at him, panting for breath. Suddenly she was uncomfortably aware of how close they were to each other. She was practically sitting in his lap; after all, she had been lying on his knee. Hermione took a deep breath.

"Thank you for catching me. Now, if you don't mind, Malfoy, don't touch me again!"

For some reason he was smirking. "According to these two, that's not going to be happening anytime soon."

With a jolt, Hermione remembered the reason why she had fainted before. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Malfoy.

"Mum?" Lizzie's uncertain voice made Hermione want to throw up. Squeezing her eyes shut and hoping beyond hope that there was perhaps some mistake, she turned around. With a sinking heart, she saw Dumbledore's expression, and knew there was no mistake. This was indeed her daughter, and Dave was indeed her son. It all made sense, Hermione realized, staring from one twin to the other. Lizzie was a true Malfoy blonde and had his stormy eyes, but she seemed to have inherited Hermione's bushy hair and free spirit, not to mention her Head Girl position. Dave, on the other hand, was a striking image of a male Hermione, although he had blue eyes, which she suspected had been passed down from her own mother. But if Lizzie and Dave were siblings, that meant that she and Malfoy were indeed their parents, which could only mean . . .

"Please tell me we're divorced," Hermione choked out, the words repulsive.

"Or perhaps I murdered her in her sleep," said Malfoy hopefully. "Or she murdered me, I don't even care at this point!"

Lizzie looked from one parent to the other and then laughed. "Of course, you're not divorced."

Dave gave them a strange look. "You're very happy together." He peered at them closely. "Aren't you?"

"No!" exclaimed Hermione and Malfoy at the same time.

"Miss Granger, Mr Malfoy, perhaps you would better understand if some matters were explained. For instance," Dumbledore's bushy white eyebrows rose. "How on earth did you get transported to the future?"

"First tell us how in hell we managed to have kids," Malfoy said smoothly, glaring at Lizzie and Dave as if it were their fault.

"If you used magic to seduce me, Malfoy, I'm going to make your family heirless," Hermione threatened angrily.

Malfoy stared at her in revulsion. "If I seduced you it's only because you used a Love Potion on me."

"And why on earth would any sensible person try to make you of all people fall in love with her?" Hermione snapped, crossing her arms.

"I dunno, Mum. If he weren't my father, and he weren't actually from the past I might," Lizzie piped up, eyeing Malfoy again.

Hermione glared at her daughter. "Not helping." She stole a glance at Malfoy, who was looking a bit green at the thought. "On the other hand, keep saying stuff like that."

Lizzie rolled her eyes. "Mum, it's a disgusting thought. I'm only saying . . ."

"Lizzie!" cried Dave, horrified. "Just be quiet! Think of James!"

Lizzie suddenly looked dreamy. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

"Who's James?" Hermione and Malfoy asked at the same time.

"Her boyfriend," Dave explained, looking amused.

"You have a boyfriend?" Hermione yelped.

"Are you sure she's your daughter?" Malfoy asked airily. "Obviously her matchmaking skills are from my side of the family."

Hermione gritted her teeth. "Malfoy, if you don't shut up I will personally turn you back into a furry little ferret!" She was very gratified to see him wince.

Dumbledore clapped his hands. "Oh, I haven't heard that story in years!" He pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye. "I always was sad I missed that. Minerva never did give me all the details."

Malfoy looked horrified. "Sir!"

Hermione laughed outright. "I'll tell you sometime if you like, Professor. Or I'll get Ron to do it. He's got it engraved in his memory."

"Are you talking about the time Daddy got turned into a ferret in fourth year?" asked Lizzie immediately, plopping down onto the floor beside them. "You tell us that story all the time, Mum."

Malfoy was outraged. "What? Why?"

Lizzie looked surprised. "Because it's funny."

"It is not!" Malfoy argued.

"Of course, it is, Dad," Lizzie said amiably, giving him a sympathetic pat on the back. "It's a family favorite. Uncle Ron tells it every Christmas."

Malfoy's face took on a stony look. "How in hell did Weasley become your 'uncle'?"

Lizzie shrugged. "He's not really. That's just what we call him." She smiled brilliantly at Hermione. "I like your school friends much better than I like Dad's."

"Except for Pansy," Dave interjected, cutting off Malfoy's sputter of indignation. "She's cool."

"Right, I forgot Aunt Pansy!" said Lizzie jubilantly. "She makes the best sugar cookies."

"P-Pansy?" Malfoy asked, his voice shaky.

"Parkinson?" Hermione clarified, stunned.

"Our godmother," Lizzie explained. She gave Hermione an apologetic look. "You didn't really have any female friends."

Hermione blushed as Malfoy gave a short laugh. "Why on earth would I ever agree to letting Pansy be your godmother?" She remembered the pug-faced, rude Slytherin girl and shuddered. There was definitely something wrong with the future.

Lizzie shrugged. "You're friends, and she was dating Uncle Ron when we were born."

"He's our godfather," Dave explained. "And Uncle Harry is Cissa's. Ginny is her godmother."

"Who's Cissa?" Malfoy interrupted.

Lizzie and Dave exchanged an amused glance. "Our little sister."

"What?" cried Hermione, horrified. "We have more children? And I'm friends with Pansy?"

"Just Cissa," Lizzie said. "She's twelve."

"Granger, either you're really good in bed or I became truly desperate," Malfoy commented, looking highly dispirited. His eyes widened as he realized he'd said it out loud.

Hermione opened her mouth to yell at him, but she was too disgusted for words. Lizzie's eyes widened after a moment of confusion and then she was lying on the ground howling again. Dave looked extremely uncomfortable, and for the first time that day Dumbledore blushed.

"I didn't mean that," Malfoy said, very red in the face.

"You're a bad influence on the children," Hermione told him angrily. "Which brings us back to the question of why I ever married you."

"Probably because you were pregnant and we didn't want any bastard Malfoy children coming into the world," Malfoy drawled. "After all, why else would I marry a mudblood?" There was a moment of stunned silence. Hermione took a deep breath, willing herself to remain calm. Even Malfoy seemed to have realized he had gone too far.

"That's horrible, Dad," said Lizzie, looking highly offended. "You were married for three years before you had children. And you know you're not supposed to use that language around Mum!"

"Much less about her," added Dave, equally angry.

Hermione, feeling tears coming to her eyes, was suddenly overwhelmed. She was stuck almost twenty years in the future with the boy she loathed, meeting children she hadn't had yet and discovering her future husband was the same person she was stuck with! And then, on top of all that, Malfoy was still making the same rude, crass remarks. There was only one thing Hermione felt she could do in her state.

She slapped Malfoy as hard as she could and then stood up. "You're horrible, Draco Malfoy, and I must have lost my mind to have married such a conceited, spoiled, obnoxious ferret!" She turned to Dave and Lizzie, taking in their stricken faces. Hermione gave Dave a tentative hug, wondering what else a "mother" such as herself was supposed to do, but Lizzie recoiled, staring from her to Malfoy in disbelief.

"I'm sorry," Hermione choked out, staring at the shocked two teens before her.

"Mum, don't you love Daddy?" Lizzie whispered in pleading tones, tearing her eyes away from her mother to her father, who was still sitting on the floor in shock, his cheek red from Hermione's slap. Lizzie turned back to her mother. "You have to!"

"No, I don't," said Hermione roughly, crying. "I don't love him. I hate him, and I hope I never have to see him again!" With that, she ran out of the room, ignoring Lizzie's alarmed shout and Dumbledore's "Miss Granger!"

"Granger!"

Hermione turned around at the bottom of the stairs and looked up to see Malfoy staring down at her.

"What do you want?" she spat.

He leaned over the railing, taking in her miserable face. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.

Hermione stared at him for another second and then whirled around. She left the stone gargoyle and ran down the carpeted hall. Malfoy didn't yell for her to stop.

And so she didn't.

* * *

Luckily Hogwarts castle hadn't changed very much in twenty years. Hermione reached the library, her usual refuge when she upset but had nowhere else to go, in record time. However, she grew nervous at seeing the groups of chattering students situated at all her usual spots, and the librarian was certainly not Madame Pince. Actually, the woman looked vaguely familiar, and Hermione was almost positive she'd seen the brown waves of hair before, but she didn't stay to figure out which person from the past it was.

She took off at a run for Gyffindor Tower, but at approaching the portrait she was immensely surprised to see that the Fat Lady was gone and in her place was a skinny, rosy-faced girl wearing a pink sundress.

"Hello?" said Hermione uncertainly, taking a hesitant step forward. There were no other students in sight, and the girl in the portrait seemed to be having a chat with an older witch. The girl turned toward her, peering curiously.

"Hello, dear. Password?" She sounded slightly familiar, which made Hermione even more confused.

"Er, what happened to the Fat Lady?" Hermione blurted out, and then blushed.

The young girl, instead of looking affronted, beamed. "Well, that's me, of course!" She frowned at Hermione. "Are you a new Gryffindor?"

"B-but you're not fat!" Hermione exclaimed, and then clapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry," she said, her words muffled by her fingers.

The girl's smile broadened. "Don't worry, dear, I get that all the time. I was repainted a few years ago after some nasty third years set off a firecracker that destroyed part of my painting." She smiled prettily and twirled her skirt. "I look much better this way, don't I?"

Since Hermione was obviously supposed to agree, she nodded wordlessly.

"Well, now that we've got that cleared up, password?" asked the Formerly-Fat Lady in a very business-like way.

"I don't know it," said Hermione miserably. She rubbed her eyes, feeling very drowsy. In the past she would be getting ready to bed; either that or helping Harry or Ron on some last-minute they'd procrastinated on.

"No password, no entry," said the Formerly-Fat Lady haughtily, and turned back to her friend. "Now, Violet . . ."

Hermione, not in the mood to argue with a portrait, sighed and turned around. Her shoulders drooped in a very uncharacteristic way, she began retracing her steps back to the library and then down to the first floor. She gave one last, lingering look around the entrance hall and then walked outside. The grounds sparkled bright green, and the sky was a clear blue. Hermione couldn't help but smile as she heard loud calls and laughter from students playing on the grounds. She walked briskly down the steps and headed for Hagrid's cabin. Even twenty years in the future, she was sure Hagrid would be there; he would be the one solid rock in this turbulent day.

Yet when Hermione reached his cabin, she found it deserted. The windows were dark, and when she rapped softly on the door Fang didn't even bark. Hermione, her heart thumping painfully, peered through a window. She was surprised to see all the changes that had occurred over the years. The cabin seemed much grander on the inside; there were paintings on the wall, and a sunny yellow tablecloth on the table. A glass vase served as a centerpiece and several roses were blooming, flowers enchanted to bloom all year if Hermione guessed correctly. She could also see a door in the back of the cabin, leading to another room, one which did not exist in her own time period.

Hermione, feeling more confused with each new revelation, walked around the back, past a new flower garden that was overflowing with forsythia and violets, and saw a large addition to Hagrid's small cabin. From what she could see spying through the window it was an elaborate bedroom with red velvet curtains. The bed was big enough to fit two giants, and Hermione was beginning to suspect that perhaps Hagrid was no longer the only resident of the cottage. A slow, amused smile overtook her face, as she realized that only a woman could have made the homely touches that now decorated the cabin's interior.

"Oy! What are you doing here?"

Hermione spun around. A large black, barking shape jumped on her, and she fell to the ground with a cry. Hermione laughed as a large black puppy, who looked remarkably like Fang, jumped on her and licked her joyfully. She patted him on the nose as he sniffed her face and then licked it. She looked up and froze at the familiar shock of messy black hair.

"Harry?"

The tall boy standing in front of her paused, distinctly unnerved. "Excuse me?"

For a moment Hermione could only stutter, unable to believe she was looking at Harry's son. For there was no doubt that it was him; after all, except for his hazel eyes, he was a spitting image of her best friend.

The boy, seeing her inability to form a string of words, shook his head. "I'm not Harry." He peered closer. "Are you talking about my father?"

Hermione ignored his words and gave a loud, jubilant shout of exclamation. "You're James!" she cried, snapping her fingers in triumph. "Lizzie's boyfriend! It makes sense!"

The boy looked even more confused. "How did you know that?"

"Well, you look just like Harry, and his father was named James," Hermione explained, feeling more and more ridiculous with each word. She blushed as James gave her a piercing glance.

"Do I know you?" he asked in an authoritative voice, approaching her. He looked at the puppy suspiciously. "Soot doesn't usually take to strangers."

Hermione laughed, rumpling the dog's ears. "This is Soot? He's Hagrid's isn't he? What happened to Fang?" she asked anxiously. Though she wasn't overly fond of big dogs, Fang had always had a special place in her heart, despite the fact that he was a big, slobbering canine.

James was startled. "Fang's been dead for over a decade." He looked sad. "The last time I saw him was when I was five."

"W-were you visiting Hogwarts?" Hermione stammered.

James nodded. "We came to see Hagrid." He frowned. "Hang on a minute! How do you know Hagrid?"

Hermione gulped. "We're old friends."

Her answer didn't seem to ease his suspicions. "How old?"

"Er . . ." Hermione didn't know how to answer that question, and so she didn't.

"Where is Hagrid?"

James cast a wary glance about, as if wondering whether or not to call for help, and then sighed. "He's on his second honeymoon. It's his five year anniversary."

"With whom?" Hermione demanded instantly, although she already had a sneaking suspicion. "And isn't five years a little short for a second honeymoon?"

James shrugged, giving her a lopsided grin. "Not for giants, I guess. And Madame Maxime has been wanting a vacation lately anyhow, so Hagrid took her back to France two weeks ago. They should be in the Swiss Alps by now."

Hermione beamed, her prediction correct. So Hagrid had married the Beauxbaton Headmistress! If only she could tell Harry and Ron . . . although their future selves would probably already know. Time travel was very confusing. Her head was pounding quite uncomfortably. Her Time-Turner in third year had never been half so aggravating!

"When will he be back?" Hermione asked, hoping for more information.

"A week or two. It depends. The last time they went to France Madame Maxime convinced him to stay for a month."

Hermione felt her heart drop. It would be terrible if she were in the future and she didn't even get to talk with Hagrid. If it were true that she and Malfoy were married then he would be the next best support after Harry, Ron, or Ginny.

"Shall I take you up to the castle?" James asked carefully. "If you're new I'm sure the Headmaster will want to speak with you."

Hermione gave a short, bitter laugh. "And I suppose this time he'll tell me I'm expecting grandchildren." Suddenly remembering she was talking to her daughter's boyfriend, she flushed. "Er, never mind."

James, not knowing her real identity, didn't appear fazed, although he was looking more suspicious by the minute. "I think I'll take you to see Dumbledore. If you'll follow me."

Hermione, knowing "I don't want to go to Dumbledore because then I'll see my husband who really hates me" wasn't a very persuasive argument, followed. She trudged behind as James walked briskly up the castle doors and then held one open so she could pass through.

Hermione sighed as she entered the front hall again. It was depressing to know that even though it looked so familiar she was actually twenty years in the future and far from home.

"This way," James said, seeing her hesitation. He pointed at the stairs she had so recently come down. Hermione sighed again and began to walk toward them. Suddenly a cold, annoyingly familiar voice made her pause and automatically she turned around.

"Miss Longbottom, I could hear your unnecessarily loud giggling all the way from the dungeons. Five points from Gryffindor," said the vindictive voice of Professor Snape. Turning from a tall girl with curly auburn hair, he sneered at seeing James. He stared at Hermione for a few seconds and did a double take. She winced as his eyes widened and his jaw dropped in recognition.

"Miss Granger?" he asked, sounding, for the first time Hermione had ever heard him, flabbergasted.

Behind her, James fell down a stair. "What did you call her, Professor?"

Snape looked back at him and then at her. His eyes narrowed and his lip curled slightly. "This does bring back unpleasant memories. Miss Granger, you are the least likeliest person I would ever have thought would make a de-ageing potion. Although I would have thought, even with all your rule-breaking with Potter and Weasley, you would know how dangerous de-ageing potions can be. Almost illegal." He smirked, looking more and more like his usual self. "Not that laws have ever stopped you before.

"Professor Snape," said Hermione indignantly, her hands on her hips. "I can't be held accountable for whatever lawbreaking my future self has done, nor do I consider anything I've previously done lawbreaking since it did result in saving lives. And besides, I just got here from twenty years in the past." She frowned. "From patrolling your dungeons, actually. I just met my children, my daughter's boyfriend, and I've been told that I'm married to Malfoy, whom, in case you've forgotten, I can't stand! I've also fainted twice." She crossed her arms obstinately. "I have never in my life taken or tried to make a de-ageing potion."

Once again Snape looked immensely surprised, not to mention the nervous, shocked look James was giving her.

"Miss Granger, are you saying you did not take a de-ageing potion?" Snape said shortly, frowning. "Because the last time we met you were a few inches taller and had just turned 42."

"What?" James cried. "Why do you keep calling her 'Miss Granger'?" he asked, sounding panicky. "The only Miss Granger here is Lizzie! And sometimes she goes by 'Miss Malfoy'!"

Snape smirked at seeing Hermione's horror-struck expression. "Yes, I'm sure her mother's very happy about that."

"I am going to kill my husband," she announced rather abruptly, turning around and beginning to march up the stairs. "But first I'm going to turn him into a ferret, bounce him around a little, give him to Soot to use as a play toy, and then I will personally strangle him with his own Slytherin tie!"

"That would be a shame, considering our twentieth wedding anniversary is approaching, and I'd hate to spend it alone," a voice drawled from somewhere above her. "Oh, wait, you're a Gryffindor who's going to give me to some wild beast to chew up. Maybe spending it alone is the preferable option."

Hermione whirled to see Draco Malfoy leaning over the railing above her, Lizzie and Dave on either side of him and Albus Dumbledore hovering in the background. "I'm surprised you didn't say 'Gryffindor mudblood'," she hissed.

Malfoy winced. "Yes, well, under normal circumstances . . ."

"I slapped him after you left before," Lizzie said, rather proudly.

"Yes, she hit his arm so hard Dad actually rolled his eyes," Dave added, his lips twitching.

"What good children I have," Hermione cooed in a falsely cheery voice. "They're beating up their father for me."

"And if he calls you that again, we'll continue," Lizzie assured her. "However, if you still decide to turn him into a ferret, can I watch?"

"You know, you're not a very nice daughter," Malfoy said angrily, rounding on her as Dave laughed.

Lizzie glared at him, her hands on her hips. "And you're not a very good father." She paused. "Well, not now, anyway. Normally you are."

"Yes, he's the kind of father who pretends not to notice when his daughter and her boyfriend are snogging," put in Dave, grinning broadly. "Not to mention the certain things he gave James a few months ago . . ."

James turned bright red, as did Lizzie.

"Dave!" hissed James frantically. "That was a secret."

"What on earth did I give you?" Malfoy asked, looking bored.

"Con-" began Dave.

"Dave, shut up!" Lizzie cried, stamping on his foot so he had to hop around on the railing. An uncomfortable silence followed while both professors, Lizzie, James, and Hermione all blushed. Dave looked extremely satisfied.

"Good grief, doesn't Potter even give his own son condoms?" Malfoy said loudly, not seeming to notice the uncomfortable silence. "Why am I providing them?" An even longer silence followed, broken only by Dave's snickers. James shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

"Er, I think my dad likes to pretend teenagers don't do . . . that stuff. Not that we do, Mrs, uh, Malfoy," he added quickly. "That's who you, are, right? Lizzie's and the Backstabber's mum?"

"Hey!" said Dave indignantly.

Hermione blushed furiously. "Actually it's Miss Granger." She glared at Malfoy, who had a similar expression on his face.

"We really don't use Dad's . . . present," said Lizzie weakly. "I think he was worried for a few months, and that's the only reason he gave them to James."

"Yes, I got some, too, and I wasn't even dating at that point," said Dave, shrugging.

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I'm sure you kids have lots to talk about later, but in the meantime, don't you think the adults need to discuss a few things?"

"All right, while you talk things over with Mum, we'll stay with Dad," Lizzie said, tossing her hair importantly. She grinned, unabashed, as Malfoy glared at her.

"Granger is certainly not an adult!"

"I beg to differ, Malfoy," Hermione said through clenched teeth. "According to Professor Snape, I'm 42!"

"And you've been hanging out with Potter and Weasley all these years? That's got to be illegal in some way . . ."

"Lizzie, hit him," Hermione said heatedly.

Malfoy jumped back as Lizzie smacked him on the arm. He rubbed said limb, glaring at Hermione. "Stop telling our daughter to hit me! You're a terrible mother!"

"I only told her once, and that's because her father is an absolute prat!" Hermione retorted.

"You-"

"Mr Malfoy and Miss Granger, if you would kindly stop your strange, mixed-up version of flirting, I'm sure the Headmaster would like to speak to you both," Snape cut in firmly. Hermione narrowed her eyes, keeping them firmly trained on Malfoy, who was likewise seething; if she looked at Snape she was pretty sure her wand would somehow manage to hex him. How dare he say she was flirting with Malfoy! The very idea made her want to retch!

"So if Mum and Dad are flirting right now, I'd hate to see what it's like when they're fighting," Dave drawled, sounding eerily like Malfoy.

"Fortunately, I haven't actually witnessed a full scale argument," Snape said. "Those were more usually between Mr Malfoy and Potter or Weasley."

"Although I did slap him once," Hermione interrupted, grinning. "Right, dear?"

"And you slapped him again in Professor Dumbledore's office!" Lizzie cried. Her eyes widened and she looked at Hermione, impressed. "You're a bad influence, Mum."

Malfoy glared venomously at Hermione. "And if I recall didn't I once give you saber-teeth, sweetheart?"

"That was an accident!" Hermione hissed. "You weren't aiming for me! I, on the other hand, had ever intention of hitting your foul little self!"

"Strange, but I somehow preferred it when they were kissing in the Great Hall Valentine's morning and the whole school walked in on them than to when they're arguing. You remember that, don't you, Severus? I do believe it was in their seventh year," said Dumbledore, still smiling his benign smile.

Hermione and Malfoy froze, horrified.

Snape had a very ugly look on his face. "Albus, I have been trying to forget that ever since. Imagine, one of my own House sharing such a . . . passionate embrace with a Gryffindor."

"Oh, I get it!" Lizzie exclaimed, a grin spreading across her face as she saw her parents' faces. "We're trying to freak them out . . . I got one! The kiss was probably of the French variety . . ."

There was complete and utter silence in the hall, and then Hermione let out a small moan.

"Or, perhaps, I don't get it," Lizzie murmured quietly, turning red.

"Yes, well," Snape said, looking as if he'd dearly wished he hadn't heard her. "Valentine's morning, they'd been having a relationship since December, and they'd gotten up early to spend a few minutes together before the rest of the school came down for breakfast . . ."

"There was a feeling of romance pervading the air," Dumbledore said, taking up the story.

"I'll never forget the looks on Potter and Weasley's faces," Snape said, sighing in what sounded eerily like delight. "That was a Christmas present in and of itself."

"Not to mention your face, Severus," Dumbeldore said, chuckling. "I remember you ordering Blaise Zabini to run to your office immediately and get the little blue bottle on the top shelf."

"Well, Headmaster, you have to admit," said Snape grumpily. "To see such sworn enemies engaging in such a . . ." he couldn't seem to bring himself to say 'passionate embrace' again. "tender moment, I did indeed think a Love Potion antidote was called for."

"Since Granger obviously used a Love Potion on me, right, Professor?" Malfoy called out, sounding hopeful and ever so slightly desperate.

"You idiot!" Hermione snapped, too shocked to think of a better insult. "Didn't you hear what they said? We'd been going out since December!"

Malfoy made a face at her, which she chose to ignore. "So you forced me to take a Love Potion in December, what's the difference!"

"I never used a Love Potion on you, Malfoy!" Hermione said vehemently. "You don't always get what you want!"

Though it took Malfoy a few seconds to get it, Lizzie began laughing hysterically.

"Are you implying that I want you to use a Love Potion on me?" Malfoy said incredulously, his face twisting into a very ugly look once he'd understood her jibe.

"How dare you!" His face paled. "Wait. We're in our seventh year, now . . ."

Hermione's face likewise took on a paler hue. "And it's November, which means . . ."

Lizzie clapped her hands in excitement. "You're going to fall in love next month!"

"I bet you're already making the Love Potion!" Malfoy said, glancing at Hermione in horror.

"Why, you!" Hermione started angrily up the stairs.

"Want me to smack him, Mum?" Lizzie grabbed Malfoy's arm as he automatically took a step back

"No, thanks, I'll do it myself!"

Malfoy whipped out his wand, a determined look on his face. "You don't get to do it a third time, Granger."

There was a loud bang, which seemed to come from Dumbledore's wand, for Malfoy, who was standing right in front of him, yelped rather loudly and collided with Dave, who likewise bumped into Lizzie. Hermione froze on the stairs, her anger slightly forgotten at seeing the jumbled up teens a few steps above her.

"That will be quite enough," Dumbledore boomed. Though he did not sound mad, there was fierceness and finality in his voice, enough so that Hermione and Malfoy did not even dare look at each other.

"Miss Granger, you are not to get physical with Mr Malfoy again in my

presence-"

"Or mine," interjected Snape, his face slightly green.

"Severus, I meant she wasn't to hit him."

"Yes, well, just as long as they know there's to be no kissing either."

Malfoy started and then swore very loudly. Both Lizzie and Dave looked highly impressed.

"You're a hypocrite, Dad!" Lizzie said incredulously. "You said we weren't allowed to use that language."

"Not that it stops you," muttered Dave out of the corner of his mouth.

"Very well, Severus," Dumbledore continued, as if the interruption had never occurred. "Mr Malfoy, Miss Granger: no hitting, no hexing, no kissing, and no groping whatsoever."

"And," Lizzie finished, grinning gleefully, "Unless you borrow some of Dave's pressie, there is to be absolutely no se-" Mercifully James had the good sense to put his hand over her mouth before she finished the sentence.

Hermione had to take several deep, calming breaths, and Malfoy had his head in his hands, mumbling obscenities things under his breath.

Dumbledore was quite red in the face, and Snape appeared close to cursing them all. "Miss Malfoy, I do believe that's a given," the Headmaster said, wincing.

"She's not 'Miss Malfoy'!" Hermione protested. "She's Miss Granger!"

"Our daughter can be called whatever she likes," Malfoy objected. "And as long as we're using correct terms, you're 'Mrs Malfoy'!"

"Over my dead body," Hermione snapped.

"Don't think I don't wish it!"

"Technically, we're Dave and Elizabeth Granger-Malfoy," Dave said in a quiet voice, causing both his parents to turn and look at him. He shrugged. "That's what is says on our birth certificates."

Hermione and Malfoy were both silent, prompting Dumbledore to begin speaking again.

"If you four will follow me . . ."

"I'm coming," Snape announced, his permanently sour expression on his face as always.

"And me!" called James, removing his hand from Lizzie's mouth and giving her a reproving glance. Dumbledore merely nodded and led the way back to his office.

"Be nice," Lizzie ordered sternly, wagging a finger at her parents, and then turned around, laughing, and began running up the stairs, her blonde hair bouncing.

Hermione gave Malfoy a cautious glance and then hurried up the stairs so she was next to him. They walked in silence up the stairs. She was unnerved to see he kept on giving her sideways looks. She was even more unnerved by the fact that she was watching him as well. Malfoy held the door to Dumbledore's office, and she passed through, murmuring a small 'thank you.'

"Now, Miss Granger, if you would kindly tell me your version of the events that led to your time-traveling," Dumbledore said once he had sat down and all the others were arranged around his desk. He made a shushing sound as Malfoy opened his mouth to argue; clearly, Dumbledore was aware that it would be impossible for the two to tell the story together.
"We were patrolling the dungeons and we saw a pile of burning parchment on the floor," Hermione began, sending Malfoy another sideways look. "After we had put it out I found a Time-Turner on the floor . . ."

There were several noises of astonishment around the room, particularly from the teenagers. Dumbledore and Snape exchanged a dark look before the Headmaster indicated for her to go on.

"Malfoy flipped it over and we got sent to the future," continued Hermione, stressing his name through gritted teeth.

"By accident," Malfoy interrupted, glaring at her. "I didn't know it was a Time-Turner."

"Well, I was trying to tell you," Hermione snapped. There was a moment of silence. She waited for him to retaliate, but instead his gray eyes simply burned resentment and anger at her, and, to her extreme discomfort, she realized just how intense his fury was. If looks could kill, she marveled, he'd have widowed himself by now. And that's a cliché if I ever heard one, was her next thought.

"Wow, Dad," said Lizzie at last, breaking the silence. "How could you not know what a Time-Turner is?"

"Shut up," said Malfoy smoothly and immediately. He rounded on her, and she stepped back a few paces, her eyes widening. "I don't care if you're supposedly my daughter or not, just be quiet and stop making rude comments where they're not wanted."

Lizzie glared furiously at him. "Don't tell me what to do, Mal- Dra- ferret!" she spat in consternation. "It's quite obvious you're not my father."

"Lizzie!" cried Dave, sounding thoroughly shocked and upset. Even Hermione, seeing Malfoy's stunned and then stormy expression, couldn't help but think Lizzie was perhaps being a bit dramatic. After all, she had made a few . . . unwanted comments. There was another brief silence, but neither father nor daughter relented, each glaring at the other with such anger that Hermione couldn't help but feel glad she had "missed out" on her children's early teens.

"Mr Malfoy, do you still have the Time-Turner?" asked Dumbledore quietly, looking genuinely sad at the recent arguement. His eyes flickered from Malfoy to Lizzie and he gave a small heartfelt sigh. Snape simply rolled his eyes.

Was it Hermione's imagination, or did Malfoy look the tiniest bit guilty?

"No, sir. I . . . dropped it."

"Actually, we both did," Hermione interjected, blushing as all eyes turned to her. "I reached for it, and we both lost it when we fainted." For some odd reason, she didn't want Malfoy taking all the blame for the incident; despite who he was and what he had done in the past, it just didn't seem right.

"I prefer to use the term 'lost consciousness'," Malfoy said, turning to Hermione with his nose another degree higher in the air. "Malfoys don't faint."

"Funny, if I remember correctly I had to wake you up from a very heavy stupor," said Hermione, feeling her irritation rise again as she also turned to him.

He looked almost amused. "Only because I cushioned your fall, Granger." He winced, his hand straying up towards his chest. "You really should ask before you use someone as a pillow."

Hermione blushed again, but didn't deny it.

"So, as far as we know, the Time-Turner is still twenty years in the past," Snape said, the calmness in his voice unsettling.

Hermione nodded miserably, and Malfoy looked away.

"Do you have any idea where the Time-Turner came from?" James asked from the back of the room. Turning slightly, Hermione saw he had an arm wrapped around Lizzie's waist. From the redness in her eyes and the tired expression on Harry's son's face, Hermione could tell he had been trying to comfort her daughter.

"It was just lying on the ground," Malfoy said, shrugging. "Who knows where it came from?"

"I gave mine back to Professor McGongall after third year," Hermione said. "It didn't look like mine anyway."

"You had a Time-Turner?" Malfoy asked in astonishment, looking impressed despite himself. Hermione blushed a third time and nodded proudly.

"So does Lizzie," Dave said after a moment. "She started it this year after Mum- er, you, suggested it." All eyes turned to Lizzie, who glared at them all in undeserved defiance, as if they were all doubting her, and nodded.

"Do you know where yours is?" Dumbledore inquired. "Perhaps your parents can look at it and see if it resembles the one they found in the past at all."

"It's in my jewelry box in Gryffindor Tower," Lizzie said after a few seconds, her voice hoarse. She pulled away slightly from James. "I can go get it, I guess." She pushed the door open and left hurriedly, without looking back.

There was an awkward silence in the room, while they waited for her to return. Hermione bit her lip, staring at Malfoy nervously. He glanced at her and then at Dave, unsure which person to look to. Hermione couldn't help but feel that now she and Malfoy were somehow sided against the twins, whereas she had formerly been united with Lizzie against the Slytherin. But she didn't want to be on Malfoy's side, nor did she want to be against him. And she most certainly didn't want her daughter angry at her over a fight she'd had with Malfoy, or in other words, her father. Hermione didn't want to be the type of mother who took sides when she or her spouse were at odds with their children; the thought of being a mother alone made her slightly woozy.

All eyes turned towards the door as they heard Lizzie come clattering back up the stairs. The next moment she burst in, her eyes wide in panic and her hair windblown.

"It's gone!" she gasped, panting for breath. "My Time-Turner- it's gone!"